Grace
by buganeer
Summary: Hotch gets sick, and learns a lesson that is a long time coming.
1. Chapter 1

" _He had noticed that events were cowards: they didn't occur singly, but instead they would run in packs and leap out at him all at once."  
― __Neil Gaiman_ _,_ _Neverwhere_

The world had been unkind to Aaron Hotchner, but still he persisted. He woke up every day and drank a cup of coffee, put on a freshly pressed suit and straightened his tie. Day in, day out. The world was unkind to him, but still he fought to right the wrongs of others. To put the monsters where they belonged: behind bars. He did it because it was a part of who he was.

This morning, though, was different. It was a rare morning when he woke up and knew he was off. He was sick. He'd seen it coming, Jack had been sick last week; he was always bringing something home from school. Usually Aaron didn't catch the bugs, but he knew he did this time. Before he'd gone to bed, his throat was dry and his lower back ached, but he brushed it off as just being the end of a long hard week. This morning, though, he felt run down and his body ached just as he lay in bed. He rolled over to take a sip of water and erupted in a fit of deep, guttural dry coughs. He doubled over in his bed as he coughed, his muscles tightening painfully.

"Dad?" Jack asked, entering his father's room. "Can I go to Jason's after school tonight? They're having pizza for dinner and invited me over."

"Sure, buddy," Aaron replied, hearing his own voice for the first time. He was hoarse, his throat was painful and raspy. "You going to stay over?"

"Yeah, if it's ok. You sick?"

Aaron glanced over at him and gave him a smile. "Seems like it. Thanks a lot for that. Good thing it's Friday, huh?"

Jack laughed and sat down on his dad's bed for a minute. Aaron couldn't believe how grown up his son was looking these days. "Want me to see if I can stay the weekend? His mom said she'd take us to practice tomorrow if I stayed the night, anyway."

"I'll call her and ask, buddy. I guess this means you don't want to take care of me like I took care of you, huh? Rude. So rude." Aaron rolled on his side and closed his eyes. The longer he was awake, the more like roadkill he felt. His bed was warm, the blankets pulled up to his chin, but he felt chilly.

"Can I get you anything before I catch the bus?" Jack asked, standing up and hiking his backpack over one shoulder. He was getting so tall, and looking more like Haley every single day. Hotch gazed at his son for a moment and smiled. Sometimes he couldn't believe he had a hand in making such an incredible person.

"I can handle it. Don't worry about me, by the time you get home on Sunday night I'll be right as rain. I'm just going to sit around here naked all weekend eating ice cream." He chuckled a little, followed by a deep dry cough. Jack scrunched up his nose in disgust.

"Daaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaad gross." He replied, pretending to gag. "Bye dad. Love you!" he called, making his way out of the room before his dad could say anything else that might make it worse.

* * *

"Rossi speaking," came the soft voice on the other end of the line. Aaron could tell he was driving and had him on speaker phone. He loathed speaker phone. You never knew who was listening. He cleared his throat.

"Hey, it's Aaron. Is anyone with you?" he asked, his voice soft and dry.

"Just me, Aaron. What can I do for you?"

"I'll be working from home today, Dave. I just wanted to call and let you know." Aaron paused, hoping Rossi wouldn't prod him, but knowing full well that he would. It was his way. There was silence for a minute, then Aaron coughed a long, dry, painful sounding cough, and Rossi made a soft noise of understanding.

"I see." Rossi replied. "Can I bring you anything?"

"No, I'm fine. I'm going to get some sleep for a while, but I'll be checking messages when I wake up. I'm going to forward incoming case files to you for a few hours, if you don't mind, I don't want to…" he paused, coughing again. "I don't want to miss anything while I'm sleeping."

"Understood. Get some rest, friend."

"Dave?"

"Yes?"

"Please don't tell the team I'm sick, "Aaron pleaded, his voice soft and almost sad sounding. "I don't want anyone coming by. Jack's going to be at a friend's house all weekend and I'm planning to lay low and try to sleep this off. I expect to be in a NyQuil coma until Sunday night."

"I'll do my best to keep them off your scent." Rossi replied, hanging up after a moment. He knew the team would be suspicious, and he wouldn't lie to them, but he figured at the very least he could ask them to respect his friend's privacy. Whether they would listen was a different story all-together.


	2. Chapter 2

_And like a hero who takes the stage when  
We're on the edge of our seats saying it's too late  
Well let me introduce you to grace  
\- MercyMe "Flawless"_

The apartment was so quiet and still as Aaron padded from his bedroom to the kitchen, wads of Kleenex jammed up his nose. He felt like a zombie, his body barely moving like that of a living person. Every part of him felt stiff and sore, he was running a fever, his stomach was churning with every step. He was, by all intents and purposes, a complete disaster. It was Saturday afternoon, and he'd spent all of Friday night huddled around the toilet, losing everything he'd eaten for at least the last 10 years, by his calculations. _This wasn't Jack's bug,_ he thought miserably as he crossed his small home. _This is Hell_.

After what seemed like months, he reached the kitchen and leaned against the counter exhausted. He put his head down and closed his eyes, remembering how Haley used to take care of him when he was sick. She was always so kind. He filled his water glass halfway and took a sip, the cool liquid stinging his inflamed throat. He winced as he took another sip. Jack had called him twice to check in the night before, and already once today, which made him feel awful. That poor boy had to grow up too fast, and Aaron hated knowing his son carried that burden. He was glad to know that Jack was out being a child this weekend instead of caring for his sick father, even if his sick father could have used the help. As he turned and began shuffling back to his bedroom, he heard a knock on his door. He cringed and stopped in his tracks.

"It's just me, Aaron," Rossi called through the door. Aaron sighed and moved slowly toward the door, unlocking the series of bolts he'd had for years now. Foyet may have been long gone, but his anxiety would never go away. He would never truly feel safe again.

"Hi, Dave, " he said rather pitifully, opening the door for his friend. Rossi looked Hotch up and down and his face fell. It was hard to see anyone sick, but to see a man of Hotch's usual stature and demeanor this way was almost too much.

"I've got to say, Aaron, you don't look too good…" Rossi started, entering the apartment with a few bags in his arms. Aaron closed the door behind him and raised an eyebrow.

"You're not such a looker yourself," he replied, moving toward the couch. He was getting dizzy and faint, his stomach doing flip flops. He'd not been on his feet this long in nearly a whole day and it was wearing on him.

"Have you taken your temperature today?" Rossi called as he unloaded his bags on the kitchen counter. Aaron shook his head, pulling a blanket around his shoulders and leaning back into the couch.

"No," he replied, closing his eyes. "And I hadn't planned to. Don't want to know."

"Too bad."

A few moments later, Rossi appeared holding a thermometer and asked Aaron to open his mouth wide. Reluctantly, Aaron agreed. When the thermometer beeped, Rossi looked at it and then back at Aaron concerned.

"103.3, Aaron. We need to cool you down." Rossi left the room for a moment, and came back to place a cool washcloth on his friend's forehead. It felt like heaven. "If your fever gets much higher, we are going to the hospital."

"I'm fine Dave," Aaron said softly, enjoying the cool wet cloth on his face. Small droplets of water fell over his closed eyes, catching in his thick eyelashes. "It's just the flu. People get the flu all the time."

"Hungry?" Dave asked, heading back toward the kitchen. Aaron's stomach lurched at the thought of food.

"No."

"When did you eat last?"

"I don't know."

Rossi looked at his friend, concern washing over him. "You don't know? Did you eat yesterday?"

"No."

"The day before?"

"Yes." Aaron replied curtly, his hand rubbing his stomach gingerly. Talk of food was not helping him. Silently he was willing Dave to stop asking, but his friend was only trying to help and he didn't want to be rude. As much as he didn't want any company this weekend, he was glad not to be dying alone…because he was sure that he was dying.

"How about I make you some tea, or a milkshake or a smoothie? Do you think you could drink something with some substance to it? How about my famous chicken soup?" Rossi asked, peering across the room at his friend and waving a mason jar filled with broth at him. Aaron swallowed hard.

"Don't think I'm ready for that yet," he said, his breathing becoming shallow as he fought the urge to run to the bathroom. He could taste the bile in his mouth, the burning rising to the back of his throat. " _No food Dave_."

"How about a popsicle? Might make your throat -" he began, but Aaron cut him off sharply.

" _No_ ," came Aaron's reply as he stood suddenly and rushed as quickly as he could to the bathroom. He barely made it before he was dry heaving into the sink, hunched over. Sweat dripped down his forehead, his body shook, goosebumps covered his arms. Nothing but hot bile came out, there was nothing left inside of him. Rossi followed him to the bathroom, but kept his distance, he was here to help but not to intrude.

"Hospital, Aaron. It's time."

Aaron slumped over the sink in defeat, resting his cheek against the cold marble of the counter. He didn't want to go, but he didn't have the energy to protest. He wasn't able to keep down even liquids, his fever was getting higher, and his throat was on fire. Maybe they could just put him out of his misery.

"I'll get your go bag – usual place?" Rossi asked, leaving his friend for a moment. "Should we call Jack?"

"No. Don't call him. I'll call Jason's mom later. " Aaron groaned, attempting to stand. He looked himself up and down, deciding that pajama bottoms and a t-shirt were perfectly acceptable attire to arrive at the ER in, and shrugged. Rossi brought him a pair of tennis shoes to slip on and hung a jacket around his shoulders. "Thanks, Dave."


	3. Chapter 3

_This is amazing grace_  
 _This is unfailing love  
\- Phil Wickham "Amazing Grace"  
_

In the Emergency Room, the two men had already been waiting an hour. The expected wait time to be seen by a triage nurse was another 30 minutes. As they sat, Rossi fiddled around on his laptop browsing case files while Aaron huddled himself over a small sick bag and rested his head on Rossi's shoulder. His neck was sore and his head was pounding now. His whole body was stiff and sore, and he was just plain exhausted. It was amazing how tired someone could feel, even if they'd done nothing but sleep for nearly 24 hours.

"Aaron Hotchner." Called a woman in pink scrubs from the corner of the waiting room. Dave closed his laptop and slid it into his bag, standing slowly.

"Do you want me to come back with you?" he asked, helping his friend up out of his chair. Aaron just looked at him pitifully, and Dave could see in his eyes that he didn't want to have to answer that question. "I'm coming back." Aaron nodded slightly in silent agreement. He was a very private person, and this went against everything he usually wanted, but at the moment he couldn't bear the thought of being alone.

"Not feeling too hot tonight, huh?" the nurse asked in a sweet, slightly coy tone as she lead them back to the triage room. She and Dave helped Aaron up onto the bed and removed his jacket for him. Dave stood beside his friend and watched as the nurse took his temperature, blood pressure and all the other barrage of silent examinations. Aaron struggled to stay awake as he lay back on the bed, he was just so tired. He closed his eyes and tried to follow her requests as best he could.

"Mr. Hotchner, are you experiencing any stiffness in your neck or sensitivity to light?" she asked cautiously, listening to his labored breathing through her stethoscope.

"Yes." He replied softly.

"Alright, I'm going to send in an order for a lumbar puncture. Do you know what that is, Mr. Hotchner?"

"Yes. Spinal Tap. Goes to 11." He replied again, opening his eyes and mustering the best smirk he could. This was not going where he thought it would, and humor felt like the only way to hide his fear. "Why?"

"You're exhibiting all of the symptoms of meningitis, and we need to do a spinal tap in order to diagnose. It is also necessary to see whether the meningitis is bacterial or viral, should you turn up positive. Stay here and I'll send in the anesthesiologist on call to get you going. Can I get you anything – a glass of water, ice chips?" The nurse was so kind, Aaron couldn't help but feel he was in good hands. He shook his head at her offer and watched as she swept out of the room.

"Meningitis, huh?" Rossi asked, glancing over at Aaron. "You sure don't do anything halfway. Go big or go home, I suppose."

"Sorry for ruining your Saturday, Dave." Aaron muttered, shutting his eyes again. "But thank you for everything."

"My Saturday is not ruined, Aaron. Just relax, you're in good hands here. _And I'm not going anywhere_."

A few minutes passed in silence, Aaron dipping in and out of sleep. Finally, the anesthesiologist walked into the curtained area and looked at the man lying pitifully on the triage bed.

"Aaron Hotchner?" he asked, looking down at his chart. He verified Aaron's information and began telling him exactly what he would be doing, step by step. Aaron felt queasy just thinking about it, especially when he saw the equipment.

"I need you to be extremely still when I do this, ok?" Aaron nodded. The man got him into position and helped him steady his breathing, asking Rossi to stand in front of his friend for support. "You're going to feel a poke and then cold first, can you tell me when you do?" Aaron nodded again and swallowed hard.

"Breathe, Aaron, "Rossi whispered, placing his hand on his friend's shoulder gently. "Just breathe."

It wasn't long before the anesthesiologist was putting everything away and telling Aaron he'd done great. They laid him back down on his bed and covered him up with the paper thin hospital blanket.

"They should have results within the next half hour or so. I hope you feel better soon, sir." With that, the man exited the curtained room, and Aaron and Dave once again were left in silence.

Aaron let out a sharp cough and a groan of pain.

"Should I call Jack's friend's mom?" Dave asked, looking down at his friend. Aaron nodded silently, his eyes shut tight against the world. He was in no condition to do it, and she needed to know that Jack had nowhere to come home to right now. He was staying another night with them already, but Aaron wasn't holding his breath that he'd be leaving the hospital anytime soon. He could feel his anxiety rising as his body felt worse and worse. "Alright. I'm going to step into the hall for a moment with your phone, I'll be right here if you need me. Try to get a few minutes of sleep while we wait."


	4. Chapter 4

_I can barely stand right now  
Everything is crashing down  
And I wonder where You are  
\- The Afters "Broken Hallelujah"_

"Meningitis?" Aaron asked as the nurse held his hand, attempting to find a good place to start an IV. He was dehydrated, but still she managed to find a good spot and start it without too much trouble. The room was cold, she could feel it in her fingertips. She rubbed her hands together softly as she talked to the two men, trying to warm them up. They could hear the soft, muffled voices of other nurses outside of the curtains, patients moaning or talking or crying, babies screaming. The ER was not a place you went for peace and quiet.

"The good news is that it's viral, or aseptic, and diagnosed early. We will be admitting you for at least three days, primarily for IV fluids and pain management, but you should make a full recovery with no lasting side effects. You're very fortunate, Mr. Hotchner. "

"Ok," was all he could muster, though he didn't feel very fortunate. The nurse had given him a mask to place over his eyes while the room had to be bright, as his sensitivity to light was getting worse. The mask was filled with a cool gel and seemed to help just enough. His head was pounding, like someone was inside with a jackhammer, and he'd already thrown up twice more since the lumbar puncture. His entire body was stiff and painful.

"Three days, you say?" Dave piped in, looking up from his laptop. He was trying his best to keep quiet and not intrude, looking over case files and finishing up reports from past files. He didn't know how he was going to explain an absence of this length to the team without everyone wanting to come down in shifts and sit with a man who wanted to be left alone more than anything. He couldn't fault them for loving and caring for the man, though, and he wouldn't lie to the team. Aaron Hotchner was the sort of man who would have you believe he never needed a helping hand, and it made you want to help him even more.

"At least," the nurse replied softly, hooking a blood pressure monitor to Aaron's lower leg and covering him back up. He was already in a hospital gown, and now cords came from every which way, machines beeping beside him. "We will play it by ear. Generally, without further complications, symptoms of viral meningitis last 7 to 10 days, but we could be able to manage them well enough for a few days here that he could spend the remainder at home without issue."

"Alright," he began, shutting his laptop. "Aaron, Jason's mother said Jack could stay with her as long as necessary. I can call Jessica if you'd rather him be with her…"

"No. Jason's house is good. He's a kid, he should be with his friend having fun." Aaron muttered, fighting another painful wave of nausea. He whimpered a little, couldn't stop the sound from coming out, and swallowed hard. "You should go, Dave. Try to salvage the rest of your weekend."

Dave smiled a soft, knowing smile and looked down at the floor. "I'm not going anywhere, Aaron."

"Did you tell anyone?" Aaron asked, rolling his head toward where he knew Dave was sitting. He couldn't see him, but he could feel his presence there. Dave shook his head.

"No. Only Jason's mom knows we are here. You can't control this situation, Aaron, I think _someone_ is trying to tell you that."

The nurse brought Aaron a second blanket and draped it over him, then looked at his friend. "We're going to keep him here in observation for another half hour, to make sure the fluids get going and his symptoms don't worsen. Once we have a room set up, we will transport him up there. Visitors will be limited, and none for at least the next 48 hours, save for you. This is a highly contagious virus, you understand. We are taking as many precautions with you as we can, I don't want to see you in here next week."

Dave nodded and sat back down. His chair had been moved a little further from his friend, and he was asked to wear a mask, but he knew that the damage was done. If he was going to get sick, he just was. He made a mental note to hire someone to clean Aaron's apartment, top to bottom, before he and Jack returned home. "Thank you, Rita." The nurse smiled and nodded, patting him on the shoulder gently and looking over at his sick friend.

"It's sweet of you to stay. He's a stubborn one…" she murmured, winking at him. Dave chuckled.

"You can say that again." Dave could tell, from the soft sounds of Aaron's breathing now, that he'd fallen asleep. When the nurse had gone, he opened his computer again and began drafting a letter to the BAU about their Chief.


	5. Chapter 5

_Words can build you up  
Words can break you down  
Start a fire in your heart or  
Put it out  
\- Hawk Nelson "Words"_

"Rossi, what do you mean he's got meningitis and we can't see him?!" Penelope Garcia yelped into the phone as she rummaged through her refrigerator for the ingredients to make her famous vegan sugar cookies. She had received Rossi's email just moments before and was now frantic, her stomach in knots. She knew something was wrong the day before, but Rossi wouldn't be specific and asked for them to respect Hotch's privacy, so she just agonized silently. The rest of the team seemed better able to compartmentalize than she was, they got on with their day seemingly effortlessly, but she had struggled.

"Penelope, please calm down. He's got _viral_ meningitis, he is going to be just fine, he just needs to be here for a few days."

"Alone?" she squeaked, dropping the sugar canister on the counter, white crystals flying all over her kitchen. She muttered a string of words under her breath that made Rossi chuckle.

"No, he won't be alone. I've already been exposed so they're going to let me stay a bit longer if Aaron will have me." He pulled the thin blue curtain back, peering into the room at his sleeping friend, and let it go again. "He's sleeping now, Garcia. He's in good hands. Trust me."

Garcia rested her back against her refrigerator, knocking a few magnets down, and willed her breathing to slow. She hated feeling helpless. "Can I do anything?" she asked, when she finally regained her composure. "Can I help?"

"You can arrange for a cleaning service to go to Hotch's apartment. You'll need to find one that specializes in biohazard. I don't want he and Jack returning to their home until it's clean."

Garcia nodded, her blonde curls flopping around her face. "Yes, sir." She said, straightening up a bit. She had a purpose now, she was helping. It was something. "Your wish is my command."

Once he hung up with Garcia, it was only a few seconds before his phone buzzed again. And again. He was in the hallway for what felt like forever, putting out fires with his worried team and the higher ups who wanted to make sure their BAU Unit Chief wasn't going to die.

* * *

"Dave?" croaked Aaron from inside the curtains. He could hear his friend just outside, talking softly on the phone. By the sound of Dave's voice, he was talking to Reid. Aaron wondered how much of the team he'd already talked to, how many of them would come rushing in to save their fallen Chief. He focused for a moment on the squeezing sensation of the blood pressure cuff on his leg, then resigned himself to the fact that everyone knew he was sick and there was nothing he could do about it. Sometime while he slept, the nurse had come in and replaced his cold mask with a new one, it felt slushy against his brows.

"Dave?" he called a little louder, this time getting the other Agent's attention. Dave peeked back in, putting his hand over the bottom of his phone.

"Yes Aaron?" he asked.

Aaron softened in his bed a little, feeling his friend close again. He realized he hadn't even wanted to say anything, he just wanted to make sure he wasn't alone. "Tell Reid I say hi."

Dave chuckled and nodded his head. "Sure thing."


	6. Chapter 6

_Author's Note: Thank you guys for the kind words! I, too, love the friendship between Hotch and Rossi. I love the few times on the show when Aaron would bear his soul to Rossi and no one else, it has always felt so genuine and I was inspired to dive deeper into that dynamic._

* * *

 _There'll be days I lose the battle  
Grace says that it doesn't matter  
\- MercyMe "Greater"_

Beep. Beep. Beep. Dave was nodding off as he sat on the lumpy couch, covered by a thin blanket. They were waiting on more bloodwork and a visit from the physician, but had at least been moved to a private room. Aaron was sleeping soundly, hooked up to a system of IVs and machines and covered by no less than four blankets. Dave could see he was still chilly, but he seemed comfortable once they began administering pain medication and fluids.

He looked up when he heard footsteps stop outside the doorway, blinking his eyes against the dim light of the room. Aaron's light sensitivity made it impossible to keep the room bright, and Dave had lost track of time. His phone kept buzzing with texts from the team asking for updates, but he'd gone radio silence for the time being. He felt like he was in the middle of a shark's feeding frenzy, but there was nothing else to say, and Aaron was already unhappy he'd said what he did. He heard the doorknob turn, and footsteps entering. Peering around the curtain, an older man with very little hair leaned into the room.

"Aaron Hotchner?" he asked, nodding to the man in the bed. Rossi nodded.

"Correct." He said, rubbing his eyes. He figured it was only about dinner time, but it felt like midnight. He arched his lower back a little, stretching the tired away. He was too old to be sleeping on hospital couches.

"How long has he been sleeping?" the older man asked, peering down at his chart with a furrowed brow. He seemed to get lost in the information for a moment, which gave Dave enough time to look at his phone and check the time.

"About an hour, off and on."

"Alright. Well, I'm Dr. Manson. We've received the results of his bloodwork. You must be David Rossi?"

"Yes." Dave replied, standing up now to indicate he was willing and able to pay attention. His body was so stiff. "He's authorized me to take his results."

"I see that here. Well, Mr. Rossi, he appears to be stable right now. His results don't indicate any complications, which is very good news. There are a few things we will keep an eye out for – blood pressure, kidneys, any presenting neurological issues. Generally, these things are rare in aseptic cases, but in patients of his age we are hypervigilant. Once his symptoms have improved some we will send him for some imaging tests," the doctor paused, looking over at Rossi.

Dave nodded, taking all the information in quietly.

"Now, while he's sleeping, you should take the opportunity to get yourself some food. He gets three meals a day while he's here, and he won't be cleared to eat solid food for another few days…I can't _tell you_ that you should use his vouchers, but they're on the table… _if you catch my drift_." The doctor winked and closed his chart. "The cafeteria closes at 8pm, but they can bring fluids and small snacks from the staff room if you ask. _No visitors for at least another 24 to 48 hours_. I am sure people have been asking, but we can't clear him for visitors until he's not contagious anymore."

Dave nodded, looking back at his sleeping friend. He didn't look peaceful, but he was still. His face was pale, his hair matted on his head with sweat. He looked thin, almost fragile, in this light and hooked up to so many machines. It occurred to him, just then, that Aaron Hotchner just couldn't catch a break. Out of everyone on the team, he seemed to be the biggest magnet for disaster, and yet he handled it always with his chin up. Dave had no idea how he did it, but it never ceased to amaze him. He supposed that was why he was here now, because Aaron deserved not to always be alone, even if it was his choice to be that way often.

The doctor performed a quiet exam of the patient before he excused himself from the room and swept through the curtain, leaving the Rossi and Hotch in silence once more. Just the whirring and beeping of the machines was keeping them company now. Dave's stomach grumbled and he glanced at the table, the pile of meal vouchers stacked neatly. He sighed a deep, grumbling sigh. Hospital food would have to do.

* * *

"He's doing just fine…" Rossi said, listening to his Italian leather shoes squeaking on the linoleum floors. He was nearing the cafeteria and could smell the feast awaiting him. On the other end of the line was Spencer Reid, who was worried and struggling with how to show it.

"I disagree. He's got meningitis, Rossi, he's definitely not fine. He could have serious complications, long lasting side effects, a relapse…"

"Hey, Reid, you need to slow down. I'll say it again – he is doing just fine. He's showing no signs of complications, his bloodwork was good, he'll probably be getting some scans tomorrow, they're watching him closely."

Reid sighed and tugged at a lock of hair that had fallen in his face as he paced through his den. He had medical books strewn about, all open to pages highlighting cases on meningitis. He had hoped to help with his information, but all it was doing was making it worse inside his own head as usual.

"Can we see him?" the young man asked, though he knew the answer. "I'd feel better if I could just see him."

"Kid, you wouldn't feel better if you saw him now. Believe me. When _he's_ feeling better, I'll see if he's up for a video chat or something…maybe Garcia can help us set something up. He will be here a while, but we can try to make something happen."

"That would be nice," Spencer began. "I'd like that. I think everyone would. Not knowing, not being able to go see him…it just…it sucks, Rossi."

Rossi chuckled knowingly and sat on a small bench outside the cafeteria and leaning back against the wall. "I get it, kid. I do. But he's extremely contagious for a few more days, and…"

"But, that's the thing, Rossi, you _don't_ get it. You're _there_." Reid cut the older man off, tugging now at his hair. He was frustrated and obsessively focused on Hotch, he couldn't do or think of anything else. He was desperately searching for relief, but he knew there wouldn't be any until his boss and friend returned to the BAU: crisp suit, cropped hair and furrowed brow. It was his safe space, and right now he felt like the Earth was spinning off its axis.

"I'm sorry, you're right. You're right," the older man conceded, sighing. "As soon as I can find a way for you to talk to him or see him, I will. You have my word. Right now, I'm going to find something edible in this cafeteria and try to choke it down before he wakes up. As of right now, he's sleeping peacefully, which is the best thing he can be doing. The minute anything changes, if it does, I'll let you all know."

"Thanks, Rossi."


	7. Chapter 7

_Even though I don't know what your plan is,_  
 _I know you make beauty from these ashes.  
\- The Afters "Broken Hallelujah"  
_

Saturday night stretched into Sunday. The days could get long in the hospital. Aaron was in and out of short periods of sleep, and Rossi was all too happy to let him do it. While he slept, Rossi finished long overdue case files and talked to the team. Aaron had even facetimed with Garcia once, as a practice run requested by Rossi, which made her giddier than he'd ever seen. He wasn't ready to see the team yet, but even he had to admit that seeing Garcia's smiling face and wild outfit made him feel a little more normal.

As the day wore on, the two men played a few hands of poker, watched some bad television, and Aaron watched as Rossi choked down hospital food for breakfast and lunch. He had to admit, it brought him some enjoyment, knowing what a foodie his friend was. When dinnertime came on Sunday evening, Rossi stood from his lumpy couch bed and arched his back. He knew it was time, and he could absolutely not eat one more cafeteria meal this weekend. He was a good friend, but even he had his limits.

"Hotch," he began, putting his hands into his pockets. He felt grimy and tired. "I'm afraid I have to get home now. I've got laundry to do and wine to drink before I have to be in the office tomorrow. Might make myself a meal that has some flavor, too, if I can manage it. Can I get you anything before I leave?"

Aaron looked down at his hands, feeling an overwhelming sense of sadness and loneliness wash over him. He was still on strict quarantine, which meant unless Dave was there, he could have no visitors. That never seemed to bother him before, but for some reason he felt it hard now. Still, he shook his head and looked over at his friend.

"No, you've done more than enough," Aaron sighed. His throat wasn't on fire anymore, his voice was still soft and hoarse but not painful. His head throbbed and his body was aching but the medication they were keeping him on was doing its job, he wasn't in any real pain. Garcia had told him he looked good, but he knew she was just being nice.

Dave looked his friend over and smiled. He looked better, even if just slightly. He had color to his face again. "Try to get some real sleep tonight, alright? I'll be by around lunch tomorrow, and after work if we don't get called out on a case. Nothing looks too exciting right now, so barring any emergencies, I should see you very soon. Unless you'd rather I stayed away…you sick of me yet?"

"Yeah. Pretty tired of seeing your ugly mug…but _nevertheless_ , I wouldn't mind if you came by."

Dave put his hand on Aaron's shoulder and gave him a soft pat. The two of them locked eyes, and many feelings and thoughts were exchanged without making a sound. After a moment, Dave walked quietly out of the room, closing the door behind him. Aaron was alone with the beeping and whirring of the machines. It was dinner time, but he still wasn't cleared for solid food. He knew the nurse would be by soon to manhandle him, change his IV bags and drainage collection bag, administer more anti-nausea medication and ask if he felt good enough to get up and take a walk around the room. He looked forward to the walks around the room, as silly as that sounded. They were hard and painful, his legs threatened to give out on him at first, but getting out of that uncomfortable bed and shuffling to the door and back was like heaven for two minutes. He thought he may even ask if they could go down the hall tonight to help cure his cabin fever.

* * *

"Hey buddy," Aaron said, looking at his son's concerned face in his small phone screen. It was Monday morning and Jack was getting ready to head to school, but he missed his father and decided he needed to see him. Aaron wasn't thrilled to video chat with his son, he hated when Jack saw him like this, but both of them needed to see each other. "How was your weekend?"

"Great! Had a really good practice on Saturday, and we won our match on Sunday. Jason's mom made lasagna for dinner last night, just for me!"

Aaron smiled, his eyes twinkling at his son's happiness. "That's great, Jack. Are you ok staying there a few more days?"

"Of course! Can I come see you soon?" Jack asked, pushing his face closer to the phone and sticking his tongue out. Aaron let out a soft chuckle, staring at his son's blurry uvula.

"Not today, but they might let me have visitors tomorrow. I'm not sure they'll let you in though, your smell might make people sick. I can smell you through the phone."

Jack laughed and shook his head. "Yeah yeah yeah, dad. I'm surprised the doctors can even _look_ at you without puking! Crap, ok I gotta go, the bus is gonna be here soon. Talk to you later!"

After they hung up, Aaron put his phone on silent. He stared blankly at the television for a while until his eyes drifted shut and he fell into a nice, long nap.

When he woke, he heard faint sounds of someone outside his doorway and recognized Rossi's voice immediately. He was talking with the nurse. Aaron ran his fingers through his hair, it was greasy and slicked with sweat from his fever finally breaking. Dave came into the room moments later, carrying his briefcase and a small tub of liquid.

"Aaron, how are you?" he asked, keeping his voice soft. Aaron nodded his head slightly. He didn't really know how to answer that question. He was still very sick, but his symptoms were being managed well enough that he didn't actually feel so bad.

"Never better," Hotch replied with a smirk. Rossi chuckled.

"Well you look like you've been run over repeatedly by a city bus, but I suppose that's an improvement on yesterday, when you looked like you'd just been dug up out of the ground."

Rossi sat down on the chair beside his friend's bed and set the small tub of liquid on the table, beside his phone and water cup. "My famous chicken broth. The nurse said they're letting you have clear fluids today, and maybe a small meal tonight. She approved this, if you're up to it. I guarantee it's better than anything you'll get here."

Aaron smelled the broth, and to his surprise, it didn't make his stomach churn. He didn't really want to drink it yet, but it didn't make him feel sick thinking about it so he figured it was a step in the right direction.

"Thanks, Dave. How is everyone?"

"They're all fine, just worried about you. We're working together in the conference room today, to keep everyone on track. JJ asked if Jack could come stay with her one of these nights, but I told her I didn't know how much you wanted him bouncing around. Garcia's had your entire apartment decontaminated and probably covered in goody baskets and flowers, and Morgan offered to come and stay with you if you'd like, once you're home. Reid…well he's just being Reid. He's frantic and worried and talking faster than any of us can follow. Hotch…" Dave began, looking sternly at his friend. "I know you want to keep everyone at arm's length, but these people _love you_ and would do anything for you. It isn't wise to keep pushing them away."

Aaron closed his eyes and sighed. "I know. I'm just so used to doing everything on my own, it's a hard habit to let go of. When I was a child, my dad used to beat on us pretty bad, Shawn and I. Never had anyone to take care of me then, so I had to learn to do it myself so I could take care of Shawn, too. He was so little."

"Aaron, I…" Dave began, but stopped himself. His friend had never opened up about his childhood before, he kept it so closely guarded. The team all had their theories, they'd heard some things he'd said in passing, but they never pushed it. Rossi mulled over what Aaron was saying for a long, silent moment.

"Of course you didn't know. No one knows, save for Shawn. I never even told Haley. It's a part of who I am, but it's not something I like to advertise. There were times it got so bad, we ended up in the ER, or a neighbor would call the police, but usually we were just on our own. When he passed, I thought it would get better, but it didn't. I got worse. We weren't being hurt anymore, but now we had no one…"

"I'm sorry Hotch." Dave looked sadly at his friend for a moment, then straightened his shoulders. He knew Aaron didn't want his pity, just a quiet understanding of the reality he lived in.

"Don't be. It was a lifetime ago. I'd appreciate it if what I just told you didn't leave this room though." Aaron looked at his friend solemnly, then back at the muted television. His stare was blank and he was lost in quiet contemplation. His chest felt tight. All of these years, he thought it might feel good to tell someone, to let it out, but it didn't. It didn't change a thing.

"Of course."

"Maybe tomorrow I can facetime with everyone at the round table," Aaron finally said, breaking the silence. "I saw that you guys have a local case you've been asked to consult on. Garcia has me all set up to link in when I'm ready. Just…not yet."

"We would all appreciate your insight, but Aaron you're _not working_. That's my one condition. You keep it short and light. I realize you're bored out of your mind and you're anxious to get back to feeling useful, but the fastest way to make your recovery take even longer is over exertion. You need rest. That's why they're keeping you _here_."

"Right," Aaron muttered, scrunching up his nose. "Rest. I'm not good at this."

"You'll be an expert by the time you're discharged. I'll bring my go bag tonight and stay here with you, keep you company, if you'd like. Or I can leave you alone. Your call."

"I'd appreciate the company, but you don't have to sleep on that terrible couch again. You've done more than enough, really."

"You do for friends." Rossi replied quietly, settling back into his chair and letting his gaze drift to the television too. "I've got 15 minutes before I need to head back – wanna play a quick hand of cards? Your pick."


	8. Chapter 8

_Author's Note: Thank you all so much for the kind words! It is very important to me to stay true to keeping these guys in character, and I agonize over making sure they only say what they would actually say, and do what they would do. Thank you, thank you! 3_

* * *

"Hi Hotch!" Garcia called, waving at the screen on the wall. Aaron had washed up a bit before calling in, trying his best not to look sick, as if he could fool everyone, especially as he sat in front of them wearing a hospital gown. He looked around at everyone in the room and gave his team a small smile.

"Hi guys," he said softly, adjusting the laptop in front of him against the glare of the sunlight coming in through the blinds. His room lights were still dimmed, and his head still ached, but he did like the small bit of sunlight. It reminded him that the world was still out there, waiting for him.

" _How are you_?" JJ asked, cocking her head to the right and looking up at the face of her friend. He shrugged his shoulders slightly.

"On day four in the hospital," he replied in his usual dry drawl. "I might be able to go home tomorrow evening."

"You're feeling up to that?" Morgan asked, always the pragmatic one in the group. Aaron stayed silent for a moment, not really knowing how to answer. He didn't know. He was ready to leave, to be in his own bed, but without the IVs and constant monitoring he didn't know how he'd be feeling and it worried him a little. He decided to take Rossi's advice, and let them in, just a little.

"I don't know. But I want a shower, and to sleep in my own bed." Morgan nodded in understanding. He'd been there before, he knew what it was like. Feeling like you're well enough to get on with things but knowing that wasn't exactly true. Being antsy to just get moving again, get back to work, not have people waiting on you and worried about you. He could see his boss struggling with this meeting, he could see the discomfort in his usually cold brown eyes. It took a lot for Hotch to be here now, vulnerable in front of them.

"Well, I'm staying with you when you do get home. I've already moved in so there's no telling me otherwise."

"Morgan, I outrank you," Hotch began, shooting Morgan a glare that would rock any normal person to their core. Morgan just smiled defiantly.

"Only here, boss. Out there…it's an even playing field. My toothbrush is already in your bathroom, nothing you can do about it. If you can prove to me that you're fine on your own after the first night, I'll go. Otherwise you're stuck with me."

Hotch squirmed a little, but resigned himself to the fact that he'd just have to kick Morgan out of his place later. "It's really not necessary, Morgan, but thank you. It is appreciated. _So,_ tell me what you know about your UnSub so far…" He'd had enough of talking about himself. He could hear Rossi clear his throat, a warning from the side of the table, but thankfully Reid chimed right in and pratted on about the case, giving every detail they knew so far so Rossi couldn't get a word in edgewise to stop Aaron hearing about the case.

"Three bodies in the last week have turned up in the Potomac river, each with the same markings and cause of death – shot in the back of the head, execution style."

"What do you think we're looking at?" Hotch asked, furrowing his brow. He could feel Rossi's eyes on him, but he did his best to ignore it for just a few more minutes.

"Looks like hired hits, but it's sloppy. This UnSub is going to a lot of trouble to make law enforcement see what he's doing…" JJ said, looking at her case file. Hotch nodded in agreement, raising his hand to massage his temple lightly. Dumping bodies in a highly visible location, without weighing them down – he wanted them to find the bodies.

"Vigilante?" he asked, finally looking at where Rossi sat. Rossi raised an eyebrow, watching his friend struggling a bit. He knew the schedule, it had to be time for meds soon.

"That's what we're exploring right now." Rossi said sternly. "I think that's about enough shop talk for you, Hotch. You should get some rest. We want you back at 100%."

"Dave…" Hotch began, but he knew he would get nowhere so he stopped his protest. Dave could just as easily turn off the monitor as listen to his plea. Pick your battles.

Hotch sighed. He could hear the doctor and nurse outside his door and knew it was time for their hourly round on him, and he'd be going for some imaging tests soon. "I think my time is up anyway," he said, watching as the nurse entered his room and flipped on the light without warning. He squinted and turned away from the harsh light, stabbing pain shooting through his head. Quickly, he lifted his hand and shielded his eyes, blinking against the pain. The nurse saw his look of distress and panic came over her as she rushed to switch the light back off.

"I'm so sorry! I wasn't even thinking!" she said hurriedly. Aaron just smiled at her, then at his computer screen.

"I'll see you all soon," he said quickly, shutting the chat off and closing his lap top before his team could comment on what they'd seen. He lay back against his pillow, shutting his eyes against the sharp pain in his head that was easing up by the minute with the darkened room. His light sensitivity seemed to be the only symptom that was hanging on for dear life.

The team all felt so much better, having seen their fearless leader after a long few days of worry, but they knew it would still be a while before he was back to himself. The room felt less tense after the monitor shut off, like they were almost back to normal.

"He looks good," JJ said, smiling at Rossi. He nodded, in that knowing Rossi way, and smiled.

"Not too bad," was his reply.

"Are you going to visit him tonight?" Garcia chimed in quietly. "Maybe we could send you with goodie things?"

"I'll be joining him for dinner tonight," Rossi replied, nodding. "It might be better, though, to send the goodies to his apartment. I'd wager on them discharging him tomorrow as long as all of his scans are clear today."

* * *

Dinner with Rossi. Hotch was slowly eating a piece of plain toast, the first food he'd had to chew in nearly a week. It was unpleasant at best, but it made him feel encouraged at least.

"How were your scans?" Dave asked, taking a sip of his iced tea. Aaron swallowed the dry toast and sipped a bit of water.

"Everything looked good," he said, tearing off another bite with his fingers first. The bread was so dry it crumbled between his fingertips. "They're going to keep me on fluids overnight, but unhook me tomorrow morning and see how I do all day on my own. They took out my catheter after the scans came back clear…" he muttered, putting the toast into his mouth.

"That's great, Aaron. Are you able to go for a walk? Perhaps we could walk outside and you could get some fresh air tonight?"

Aaron nodded, choking down his last bite of toast. "Yeah, just have to let the charge nurse know. I can have visitors tomorrow, but I don't want any. I just want to go home."

Dave nodded knowingly. "Understood."

* * *

The air outside was crisp, the sky dusky. It was nearly 8pm, the sun was down but the light wasn't extinguished yet. The sky had a deep blue and purple hue to it and Aaron thought it was maybe the most beautiful sky he'd ever seen. He took a deep breath, filling his lungs to the brim, and let it out slowly. He wore a robe over his hospital gown, wrapped tightly around himself, and no slip hospital socks. It was a far cry from his usual attire.

"It's a beautiful night," Rossi began, his hands shoved into his pockets. "A bit chilly, but beautiful."

Aaron just nodded silently in agreement, staring up at the hazy moon. His last night in the hospital and he finally felt human again. The two men stayed outside for what felt like forever, until a nurse came outside to tell them their time was up, Aaron had to get back to his room. They slowly walked back to his room, and once inside Rossi helped get Aaron settled back into his bed and took his leave of his friend for the night.


	9. Chapter 9

_Author's Note: Thank you all for reading! This is the final installment in this story. I hope you've enjoyed my little trip into what I imagine it would be like if Hotch got sick.  
_

* * *

Day 5 came and went, still no discharge. The doctor said he could go home that night, but he'd feel more comfortable going one more night there, off of the IVs and catheter completely. Aaron consented unhappily, mostly because he remembered that he'd be going home with Derek and he wasn't exactly eager to get into that. He spent the day going through his emails, reassuring everyone at the Bureau that he was indeed still alive and would be back to work on Monday. He requested not to have visitors on his last day, but he did spend a good hour on the phone with his son, catching up on his week and helping him with his math homework.

Finally, on the morning day 6, he was cleared to leave. His fever hadn't come back, and his sensitivity to light was better but would probably hang on for a while longer. He was left with the general feeling of lethargy and a little nausea, but nothing he couldn't live with, or ignore. Morgan showed up right on time to pick him up and take him home. The car ride was quiet and short, blissfully uneventful. Aaron had most of his strength back and was able to walk on his own without issue, which ultimately made both men happy in their silence.

"Right to bed," Derek ordered when they got inside. Aaron paused to look at him, sternly furrowing his brow. Derek smiled a little, Hotch was back. He knew he had very limited time to take advantage of this situation, but it was fun to egg the older man on a little.

"I need a shower." Aaron replied, squaring his shoulders. Two alpha males, one trying to take care of the other…this could be a very long day.

"That may be so, but the doctor said you needed to stay in bed for a few hours once you got home, and I am not about to let you go against your doctor's orders. You can take a shower _later_. We got nothing but time here, Hotch. Want something to eat?"

Aaron walked to his bedroom as Derek talked to him, deciding in this instance that he'd have to give up the alpha role…just for the time being. He wasn't winning this battle. Derek was painfully persistent.

"Soup and crackers sounds good. Rossi said he put some soup in the fridge," Aaron said, crawling into his bed and snuggling down into the covers. Home. He was home. He could put up with Derek barking orders at him now, with his head resting against a soft, fluffy pillow. He glanced around his room and saw bouquets of flowers and cards, which would have made him uncomfortable any other time but today it felt nice. He was surrounded by the knowledge that his friends and loved ones cared for him: Garcia had had all his suits freshly pressed and hung up, Reid had piled books by his bed for him to read, JJ was having Jack stay with her for the weekend, and Derek was living on his couch…he had to admit, for the first time in forever, he almost felt _safe_. Maybe the world wasn't _always_ unkind to Aaron Hotchner.


End file.
